


Brainless

by doodnoice



Category: Bully (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Death, Drabbles, Drama, Drug Use, Emotional Abuse, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Ficlets, Fluff, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Mentions of Suicide, Multi, Other, Physical Abuse, Psychological Drama, Romance, Self-Harm, Smut, Suicide, Teenage Hormones, allusions to rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-19 20:58:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3624030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doodnoice/pseuds/doodnoice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're depressed and with no one else to talk to, decide your best bet at staying sane is with Gary. Together, you both try to make the best of a shitty situation hoping that one day you'll be big enough to crush the world that so cruelly destroyed you.</p><p>[Gary Smith/gender neutral!Reader]<br/>discont.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. rambLe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOA. JUST RE-READ THIS AND DAMN IS IT ANGSTY. i guess that's what happens when i stay late cause holy shit man. i didn't know i was capable of this.

i. rambLe

 **H** ad Gary always been taller than you, you wonder.

Last year, he couldn't have been any more than half your size, at least that's what it felt like when you stood over his crumpled body and watched the blood run down his nose from where Jimmy had kicked him down the concrete stairs. You clearly remembered the cheering, the entire school standing around the main building and laughing and rejoicing over Jimmy's success and Gary's failure. However, unlike the rest, when Jimmy kissed the girl, you barely felt anything except a cold ache that seemed to burst the "feeling" center of your brain into tiny, monochrome pieces of sludge.

Of course, you had expected it--when that red-headed bitch caught Jimmy's eye, you knew they had made a connection that you could never make, one that repulsed and screamed "love at first sight", but if she hadn't fucked him, then it wouldn't have been her that was kissing him on the steps. It would have been you.

Now, Gary warned you, back when he had power, back when the name Smith made everyone jerk in their seats and cower in fear. He said, and you remembered it just as vividly as the bright splatter that dripped from Gary's nose, the exact words he spoke: "Jimmy is nothing but a dick." And when you looked at him, confused at his use of the less complicated and crass choice of words, he clarified, "Not in the sense that most people mean either. He only thinks with his dick. There isn't a brain in that neanderthal head of his, there's a tiny, throbbing dong that sits right up whenever a willing, fuckable face passes by."

You're unsure whether he meant that as advice, but you ignored it either way and fucked Jimmy while Gary was off executing his plan.

It was every day like that--nonstop rutting: after school, between classes, in the parking lot, on the beach--anywhere you could. Then, after a while, he got bored. Or rather, boring. He started wanting to hold hands, play games and pretend that there was no difference in your relationship, that he wasn't only acting like that because you said "no" once and he took it as a challenge and you were trying so desperately to pretend it didn't happen.

You'd never admit Gary was right, but Jimmy hadn't made things any easier.

Those events happened last year, now it's Junior year, three days before second quarter. The grass is faded and the trees are turning those gold and red colors you love so much. So warm.

A leaf lands near you, but your eyes are trained on Gary as he walks across the wide Bullworth campus, making a beeline straight for you. Again, you wonder just how he tall he was before, because now he's taller than you could ever dream. You wonder how he manages to stand so tall after everything he's been through.

You resist the urge to scratch the gauze wrapped around your wrist and instead flick the ashes off your slowly burning cigarette with shaky hands.


	2. flOw

ii. flOw

 **Y** ou don't allow Gary the pleasure of drawing first blood when he approaches. "Hello, Smith." You say, hiding the way your free hand fists the tender flesh of your knee by slumping your shoulders and blowing a plume of fresh death at his face.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite little project." Gary replies, foregoing politeness and formal introductions to kneel and kiss the top of your head, "I thought you would have been dead by now."

If you were anyone else, you would have thought the gesture sweet, that is if you ignored the statement he just made. But, you knew Gary--you knew what he was capable of and knew just what that kiss meant.

He owns you.

You involuntarily flinch when Gary moves a hand to smooth your hair. He pauses-- _he knows, he knows_ \--and then sits back on his haunches and stares.

With a shudder, you look away from Gary and take a long, stuttering hit until all you feel is warmth swirling in your lungs. For a brief moment, euphoria takes hold and you forget where you are, who you are and what you've done. Cloud nine tastes salty.

But then calloused fingertips turn your face and pull you forward, and all your happiness turns to panic. Gary's lips are against yours and you almost choke when his tongue swipes against your chapped bottom lip.

You open your mouth--an almost instinctive reaction--and lazily tangle your own tongue with his. There's a haze of smoke that mixes with the sweetness of Gary's mouth that reminds you of something tragic. Maybe not exactly tragic, but sad, although not wholly unpleasant.

The kiss is passionate and so utterly intertwined with emotion that you feel the only thing that is missing is rain. Two lovers, so long reared apart that their meeting is like magic  ~~that's fucking stupid why would you think that... idiot, idiot, idiot.~~

To be kissed like that after so many months of loneliness... You can hardly remember why you were so apprehensive in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm digging these drabble things. 
> 
> I also wanna mention that these things are supposed to be fragments of what the reader is thinking--that's why all the of the sentence structure is fucked--it's for the sake of being more reminiscent of actual thoughts.


	3. swiNg

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, there's some uh heavy petting mentioned here... so, umm... yeah. (but i mean like, honestly, there always is so it shouldn't be a surprise) OH. ALSO, I SHOULD PROBABLY STATE EVERYONE IS EIGHTEEN AND OVER, 'CAUSE SHIT, MAN, THAT'S JUST HOW WE DO.  
> ...I'm sorry for yelling, I've been up for three straight days and all I got to prove for it are some shitty drabbles and a headache.

iii. swiNg

 **S** ex only lasts so long with Gary. After he takes his fill, it's a long time before he's ready to play again.

That's not to say Gary is a boring lover--he's as charming in bed as he is in life. 

He can sweep you off your feet and make you feel like the stars are made for you in one moment, and in the next have you on your knees begging for him to ride you harder and faster, until your throat is so hoarse that you have to whisper your pleas. 

Nights in bed with him are never uneventful, just... Desperate.

When you're with him, you always notice how you become so easily manipulated. With a few words, you're play-doh in his pocket. You can be molded and shaped and made to say what he wants you to say--want and need and feel all the things he wants you to.

Have you ever had a desire that wasn't fuelled by Gary's wishes? The idea makes you nauseous. 

At one point, you had to have been at the helm of your own life, your own choices. When did that stop? Was it when you met Gary? Or when you met Jimmy? Were you already so vulnerable that a boy could so easily sway your judgement and--

"Stop thinking." Gary states, his voice muffled against your scalp.

You don't remember Gary holding you before the events of last year. Post-coitus comfort was never a favorite of his, but now it seems that he expects it, maybe even accepts the interaction despite it being part of his so despised traditional romantics.

Gary shifts you so that you're facing him. Your legs are tangled together and the sheets are half clinging to your bodies, but you're not uncomfortable or cold; Gary is warm enough to heat the whole damn world.

"You shouldn't think about things so much." Gary's voice is low as he pulls you in, his forehead touching your own. "It's a waste of time."

You're not sure if his words are supposed to be endearing, so you decide to take them for what they are--clear cut statements.

You shrug, "I can't help it." You feel his hands trail down your arms and back up again, lazily mapping worlds against your flesh, "Sometimes all my thoughts get jumbled up and I can't think of anything except making them right again."

Gary makes a gruff sound of understanding, but its blurred by a sleepy murmur as his hand goes limp on its place on your arm. You pause, taking a few moments to realize that Gary fell asleep.

You try to wrap your head around everything that has happened so far: the kiss, the sex, the holding and talking, but none of it makes any sense. 

This never would have happened before, Gary never would have touched you, much less held you so close after a night like this. He wouldn't have bothered to comfort you or persuade you to fall asleep--to stop worrying.

He would have left you alone.

You touch his cheek and trace the line of his scar with a light touch. He has never told you what it was from or how he got it, but sometimes you can tell-- when you used to pretend you were sleeping while he got dressed, while you watched him stare at a dirty mirror and scowl--that it bothers him.

It's a reminder that makes him feel something other than anger; numb is probably the right word.

In some ways, that puts him on the same level as you. Maybe that's why he's doing things differently this time.

For all his revere and satire, he's just as lonely as you are.


	4. somEthing

iv. somEthing

 **I** t's suffocating to constantly be in Jimmy's presence. To see his ugly, freckled mug and smell his musk and hear his loud laughs and barking statements with diamond-grade clarity, because you can't even begin to tune him out; you sit right next to him in almost every class you have. 

Now, you don't know if it's fate or some twisted, fucked up scheme that Jimmy is playing, but you refuse to entertain it even if that means your class attendance suffers for the sake of your sanity.

Skipping class is easy when you know how to do it right. Unlike those meat-head Bullies that walk the campus daring any Prefect to try to bust them, you simply hide in the areas that the Prefects tend to ignore--and, due either to ineptitude or complete uncaring, those places are in extravagant abundance.

Currently, you're keeping to a small divide between the Library and the Harrington House's garden. It's a mostly dirt plot and probably only ten feet wide, but it's secluded and quiet and cool. It's perfect, so long as you know how to keep yourself amused.

After you hop the short wall by the Library and then the second one heading towards the prep's hangout, you set up your resting area for the day. In the shade of a wall, you throw down a checkered blanket, a book and a backpack you have filled to the brim with snacks and drinks. It's like a personal little picnic and for a second, you feel like you've grazed heaven--if only for a while.

You spend the rest of the first half of the day drinking cold soda and eating chips, filtering out the ambiance of distant chatter and even the ring of the bell and instead delight yourself in the book you're reading.

Eventually, you give your eyes a break and just watch the thick, white clouds travel across the blue sky. You feel your chest swell with content, everything is alright and your eyes are becoming heavy. When was the last time you had some good rest?

You glance around to make sure no one else is nearby and just as you expect, there isn't a single soul. It's lunchtime--a fact you double-check with your gold watch--so everyone must be eating in the cafeteria, or maybe even off-campus. You're not sure if the gates have opened yet, but decide it's an irrelevant topic.

Your descent into the dream world is quiet and easy, and you find that you're more at peace with yourself out in the open than any building you have to confine yourself to.

The nap, although fleeting, is a pleasant one. When you awake, the first thing you notice is that you have a jacket covering your shoulders and your head is in someone's lap.

You're about to shoot up and make a run for it when a familiar hand strokes your hair, "I gotta admit, out of all the places to hide during class, you've found the holy grail." It's Gary, thankfully, and you actually relax, feeling the tension in your back settle as you sit up, clutching the jacket to yourself to consolidate the warmth.

Afternoon classes have ended; it's around four o'clock. If Gary hadn't shown when he did, would you have slept through the day?

Gary clears his throat after he takes a swig of soda, "It's not all that smart to be sleeping out in the open like this. We have rats, y'know, and I'm not just talking about the students."

You smile and with Gary's urging pull on his jacket just as a cold breeze passes by, making you shiver, "How'd you know I was here?"

"Believe it or not, you're not that hard to find." Gary responds, throwing an arm around your shoulders and allowing your head to rest on his heated chest.

You sit like that for a while and for once, no thoughts pass through your brain. Everything is so peaceful. It's refreshing to say the least, but no matter how hard you try, you can't help but feel like what you have won't last--that it can't.

But, when Gary glances at you, you forget about it and focus wholly on why the most beautiful broken boy was holding you.  ~~If you were any more romantic, you might have thrown up.~~

"It's getting kind of late." Gary comments as he pulls you up to stand, "It's Friday," the reminder brings a wave of relief, "And my parents aren't gonna be back until next week; wanna stay at my place?"

As you pack, you nod your head, "If I say 'yes' I'm sure you'll be a great host?"

Gary smirks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOOOOO like... that was uh... fluffy, right? Cutesy. Gary must have lost his freakin' marbles the way he's been acting... like daaaaayyum. Anywho, as per-usual, hope you enjoyed! See ya'll in the next few days for another drabble fill.


	5. Ridicule

v. Ridicule

 **Y** ou kept your head down as you walked through the halls--it was safer that way. No one bothered you when you deigned yourself to invisibility, but the moment you lifted your head you were open to all the criticisms you already recited to yourself daily: "bitch", "whore", "what a fuckin' freak".

These were the things people murmured under their breath as you passed, although none of them dared insult you to your face. You were Gary's... something and because of his overbearing social power and tendency for deviance, they never bothered you.

In any case, none of it really mattered as long as no one touched you or stopped you from going to class; you couldn't care less what they thought of you. You just wanted to be left alone.

With your head hung low it was somewhat difficult to see sometimes. You stared at your shoes when you walked so, it really shouldn't have surprised you when you ran straight into a person who had just been standing idly by. You didn't drop anything, but the person you ran into sounded annoyed.

"Who the hell..?" Some guy you had never seen before said as he turned around.

The guy had short, buzzed ginger hair and a squinty glare. He was stubby, but built and held this strange animalistic air about him that somehow made him attractive.

You felt your face heat when you realized you took too long to admire him, and of course the guy noticed.

With your head hung even lower, you mumbled a half-hearted "sorry" and pushed past him.

As you walked away, you tried to convince yourself that it wasn't his eyes burning into the back of your skull; it was just your imagination. But you were never much of a liar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo! FLASHBACKS! Yay.  
> I know this chapter was short--I mean, it's a drabble book, but whatevs. The next chapter is gonna be longer, but it's also gonna be smut, SOOO it might take some time, might not. Depends on how much free writing time I have irl. Anyway, thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!


End file.
